


Garden

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Mycroft Holmes, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23699887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Greg and Mycroft make love in the Garden
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 11
Kudos: 120





	Garden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anglofile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anglofile/gifts).



Mycroft stepped back from his flowers and removed his gloves. The garden was coming along wonderfully this year, if he did have to say so himself.

“Looks gorgeous, love,” said Greg, stepping behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

Mycroft leaned back into his embrace. “I didn’t know you’d come home already.”

“You were busy,” Greg kissed his throat.

Mycroft shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the warm spring breeze. “I’m not busy now.”

“Good to know.” Greg murmured against his skin, kissing him again.

Mycroft shifted his hips, feeling Greg’s growing interest through his jeans.

“I love the way the sunlight looks in your hair,” said Greg, tugging him away from the flowers and towards the grass, where a blanket was already laid out.

“I really must have been focused,” said Mycroft.

“You were. And I can be quiet when I want to be.” Greg gently pushed him down onto the blanket and moved over him, kissing him deeply.

Mycroft moaned softly, arching up into the kiss, running his hands down Greg’s chest and reached for the buttons on his shirt.

Greg smiled as he broke the kiss, running fingers through Mycroft’s hair. He stole another kiss and mirrored Mycroft’s actions, getting his lover’s shirt open and then reaching for his zipper.

“Roll over, love,” he murmured, pulling back and helping Mycroft onto hands and knees, pulling his trousers and pants down to his thighs. “If you’re too noisy the neighbors will hear,” he said, getting his own flies open.

“I suppose that all depends on how good the buggering is,” said Mycroft, looking back over his shoulder.

Greg chuckled and pulled lube from his pocket, coating his fingers and pushing two into Mycroft.

Mycroft moaned softly and dropped his head. “Give it to me,” he demanded.

“Greedy,” said Greg, coating his cock and lining up, holding Mycroft’s hips and easily sinking into him.

Mycroft groaned quietly, shifting to take himself in hand, stroking in time with Greg’s thrusts.

Greg shifted his hips, rewarded with a soft cry from Mycroft. He redoubled his efforts, making Mycroft groan into his arm. 

Mycroft reveled in the strength of Greg’s hands, the steadiness of his movements, his easy surety. With Greg he could let go and fall and know he would land safely.

With another small cry Mycroft spilled over his hand.

Greg growled and gave himself over to wild abandon, holding him tightly, filling him a moment later.

Mycroft sighed and smiled as Greg carefully got them settled on their sides on the blanket, spooning around him and nuzzling the hair at the nape of his neck. The sun was warm and Greg’s arm around him was comfortable.

They dozed off together, safe and loved, the faintest breeze ruffling their hair.


End file.
